So…I didn’t die. Obviously.

I told Seh that she was to have my goggle and cloak if I didn’t return. She now has the tendency to stroke and tug at them whenever I see her and hiss “Mine” at me. I may just have to stab her a little.

The Enchantress showed up the eve before the big battle. Naturally she made a scene, was demanding and naggy as usual…expected everyone to entertain her…as usual. I left her standing in the middle of the street…alone…as usual. I had missed her though and it was good to see her. She needs to make an appearance more often.

Which brings me to the other Enchantress…hmmm…I am detecting a theme.
Still…what to do and where will this road take me? Do I want to go down it…even a little? I sense a lot of emotional neediness, if so I also predict stormy times ahead.

I miss Red. I dreamed about the Cleric last night.

Damn…I think I am weighted down with a little too much baggage.

So, this could be my last diary entry. A clarion call has gone out and they say we could actually die. We are to remove the last of the seals and besiege the Darkness beyond in the hopes of activating an ancient weapon. A weapon mind you that even the ancients with their superior power and knowledge couldn’t activate. It seems like a worthy reason to leave my self-imposed exile from these dreary spider infested caves and if I have one flaw…which is very doubtful… I would say it is my curiosity. I like sticking my nose in places I don’t belong.

Well…I am ready. I’m not saying I want to die, far from it in fact but at the same time I can’t help but feel that it could be my time. I have walked these lands a long time, seen friends come and go, seen wonders, miracles, disasters and sorrows aplenty. I have loved and been loved and had my soul cut to ribbons from it too.

I don’t know what else there is left to do.

If…if I don’t return and this becomes my last diary entry and if someone were to stumble upon this stolen clerical prayer book, do me a favour. Pray to the Gods for me. I want my goggles and embroidered cloak to go to Sehdae. I would give them to her myself but alas they have become almost a part of me. Of all my protégés she is the best. I couldn’t be prouder and I have come to love her like a daughter…which would make me a very irresponsible and unreliable Father. Still the thought of her and all she has accomplished makes me smile and though I know none of it is because of me I can’t help but feel an inner glow when I think of her. I hope she stays away from this conflict or stays with the group protecting the throne room if she does decide to join the fray.

If this really is my last entry then my last thoughts are of Asrai…and Amarissa, naturally. Mayhaps I will find her again soon.

May the Shadows keep you safe…or kill you.
Seragil Shadowsong

The Last Imp, Rogue Extraordinaire, The fabulous, The Irreverent, The Dashing, The Silver Tongued. The Obnoxious Pain is the Ass

I found nothing again, not a whisper of a rumour or sighting. Still I will not give up nor stop looking. If anyone can survive such a storm at sea it would be Red and the Witch, only fools would dismiss them as lost so readily.

So after another fruitless search I have returned and found nothing has changed on that front either. OF my brother I have seen nothing but I have no doubt that once he hears the distant jingling of my plat he will show up soon enough. Of the guild only Z seems to be around though I’m sure the others are rattling cages somewhere. I have left messages for the waif but have heard nothing. Perhaps she has stopped looking for my return or maybe she has come to realise that no matter how long I am gone I will always come back and so merely waits for me to find her for a change.

It seems there is a new darkness wandering the lands…shadow people or guardians or something. Apparently Sigarni got kissed by one, which begs the question. How easy with her lips is she? Though kissing could just be a weird colloquialism these morons are using for battling these creatures. I’m not sure I care enough to actually find out though I can’t deny being slightly curious about the answer, one needs some sort of amusement in these droll times and I haven't forgotten my own score that needs settling between the darkness and myself.

The people are just as morose and depressing as usual. Talk about dull and dreary.

I did some manual labour and didn’t see a single reward for my efforts. Honest work is for dogs, their rewards the measly scraps they can scrounge up at the end of the day. I will NOT be doing that again. It left me feeling like a mark; used, abused and totally filthy.

I’m bored, bored of hunting the spider caves for blue guardians. Bored of the sneers and gnashing of frustrated teeth of enchanters and clerics when I do find them. Bored of raids not that I ever bother to run to them. Bored…last time I felt like this I donned a red dress. The idea is tempting but I know I’ll be just as bored in a turn or two and will want to pick up my daggers again. So no…that is not an option, anyway; who would I ask to take me to temple? No…guess I’m just gonna have to create a storm and stir up some trouble instead.

How long has it been since I felt my heart race and my soul burn, for my eyes to gleam with purpose and fire?

It took a Hand in the dark and a trip to the Life Monument but now I have a goal. I want to carve whatever it has for a heart out and grind it to mush in my hand.

Now I will train, now I will care…Now I am Awake!

Watch your back Darkness…I am coming for you.

A note filled with a few scribbled words. How can something so simple leave me feeling so...so…there are no words to describe this.

Ship lost at sea, no known survivors.

I had to search for myself, never trust the words of others; I have learned that lesson too well.

I searched and searched. I have found nothing, no trace except numerous accounts of extreme storms and sunken vessels.

She is gone

She is Gone.

I cannot deal with this pain again, I should have learned the first time with the Cleric. It hurts worse than any poison, more than any enemies blade or torture. I cannot, I will not be a victim to my own emotions

Let people in they say. Why? For this? Always this!

No, no more, never again. A warm heart is a death trap. Melting the ice only leads to pain and betrayal. Be cold; be like the night in the middle of winter, enticing but unreachable, cold, dark, dangerous. I will once again make my heart a blade others will bleed upon.

I feel the old restlessness returning, an itch in the soles of my feet, I am sleeping a lot again too. I have made a promise and I will keep it but what is a rogue without a purpose? What is anyone without a purpose? Am I here merely to kill spiders and aggravate people? The latter is amusing yes but I need more! I need something to inspire my imagination, my mind and my soul.

There is no mystery here for me, no challenge, just the monotonous grind of repetition. Same faces, same fake smiles, same attitudes.

I need something to do, something that gives me focus and a sense of accomplishment. Something that makes the endless grind worthwhile.

Mayhaps I should start that book I keep meaning to write. I would help distract me from this restlessness at least…and will help me keep my promise.

I really need to stop making those…they become unbreakable shackles.

Why do I feel so empty, what is it that I am searching for and why is it that anger rises so quickly from within, spilling out through reckless words and petty cruelty. Am I petty? Regrettably so…yes I cannot deny it, it’s not a constant thing but unfortunately it is undeniably there. What I did…no…how I did it is inexcusable, she didn’t deserve it, not like that, not ever.

I will have to apologize; petty jealousy, to think I could sink so low.

Jealousy for what I might ask? Because she has moved on? No, we are not that to each other anymore, though I think we will always care and even love one another. No, I want her to be happy, she deserves it. Is it who she chose?…Maybe…yes, maybe…of all the people she could have fallen for she chose one who had hurt me and so by doing so hurt me as well.

Now that is conceited and arrogant, she has the right to choose and love who she will…petty….so very petty.

I hate self-examinations, delving through ones conscience like a dirty laundry basket, yet if I don’t do it then I must let others be the judge of me, if I will not be my own mirror then I must become one who seeks their reflection in the eyes of another and I will never give such power over myself away. So no…I must look within as untasteful as it is. If I will not be chained by the ideals and judgement of others then I have to answer to myself. Hmmmm I am susceptible to bribery… …does self-bribery even work?

So how do I say sorry?

“ Hey, great to see you, sorry I was such a total ass hat and sorry for hurting you because I seriously didn’t mean to.”

Well that’s just a lie straight up, because obviously I meant to do it or it wouldn’t have happened. I was cruel, and mean…I hurt her and there is no forgiveness for that, well no…I didn’t intentionally mean to do that…No…Yes I did mean it, I did, I purposely worded it so as to entrap her and then stabbed her with my words, whether the details were true or not, the delivery was done to wound. I have betrayed her! I have betrayed her trust, a person let me within their inner self and I cut her. Gods! By the Darkness ,What have I done?

There is no forgiveness to this, I should know…have I ever forgiven those who did it to me…have I forgiven the one she chose? No I bloody haven’t!
I am ashamed; truly ashamed…people are right to call me Fool and Traitor, not by their meaning but by my own!

So how do I fix this? Sitting here writing my own pity party obviously is not the answer and apologies are a waste of time, they are just a means for the guilty to try and make their victims ease their own sense of guilt and shame. It makes them feel better but does nothing to ease the pain and suffering of those they wronged.

I don’t have the wisdom to see the way past this, I can face her and admit my shame and express my regret…isn’t that what an apology is?...Useless and self-serving!. How do I atone for this? How? Who can I ask? When one makes of themselves an Island there aren’t that many to turn to…which makes my actions even worse…so much worse.

This pity party requires cake.

And what of Red?

Here I am raking myself across the coals over my thoughtless and petty actions towards a cherished friend and I didn’t even hug her on her return, touch her, kiss her. Instead I gave her the flip side of my tongue. I am taking the woman I love, the woman who loves me, for granted…I am not a fool…I am a Damned Fool!
When was the last time I took her out, since I made time for her? Made time? Made time? I have to “make time” for my bonded? She deserves better than this, she deserves laughter and joy and love without doubt or question. When did I become so lost?

I keep the world at bay with harsh words and unbreakable walls…which admittedly is fine for me….but I am also hurting and pushing away those I love. Why? Why?
I did it to the waif as well though that really was unintended and was not what I meant to do, but still.

When you keep making the same mistakes over and over again…they really aren’t mistakes, but choices.

The waif is right…I am damaged, damaged and broken beyond even my own ken.

I don’t know how to fix this, to fix me.

I don’t know if I can

Or even if I want to.

Is that why the door calls so? Do I seek oblivion?

Every time the wind blows, I think of her. I look to the ocean and wonder as I listen for her

She would have understood about the door. Heck she would have been up there with me, tapping and listening.
The door, gods…I must stay away…I must!

I can’t

I will.

Oh Red, I hope she returns soon, I miss her and I hope she hasn’t killed the Witch…I’m fond of her too…when I don’t want to kill her.

I need to make that collar…make a gift for Red…she will LOVE it!

It calls to me and I don’t know if I have the strength, the will power to fight it, deny it. The world screams No! I say why not?

I know to do so is wrong, isn’t smart and of course I won’t. I’m not that lost.

I can still hear its call. Gleaming darkly in the light, beckoning. It bows outward just begging for someone, for me, to make the tiniest split, to shave the smallest of splinters with my dagger.

I will not go back there! It is folly!

I need to know more.

Maybe studying it would help.

I should go back tomorrow.

I am not going to write about her. I will not!

I'm going to clean my candyball instead.

zombie goo and spider ichor is all over it. Its shine can barely be seen, but oh how it shimmers in my hand. So light, filled with light and deadly to boot.

My Candyball of Doom.
Mine
All mine.

I can't believe she pointed out that cross eyed, swayed back ...hick!... out to me.and she calls me conceited and annoying!

Candyball...you're so pretty.

In my life I have only ever loved three women.

The Cleric, The Enchantress and The Pirate Queen.

The Enchantress and I found each other when both our worlds seemed at its darkest. We gave each other hope and meaning when all meaning seemed lost. We loved and we laughed and found joy in each other. We offered each to the other a safe place for the ember of ourselves to stay alight, a haven so that we may breathe, live and to heal. Our love was fierce and wild and bright.

The Pirate Queen and I have always understood each other and blend perfectly. We are a volatile concoction of equal parts passion, ire and mayhem. I would say we have perfect love and perfect trust, but there is no such thing as perfection and she would rob me blind just for the fun of it…as I would her. We burn, we plot, and we dance.

Yet through it all…you are there, always.

I see you in the world.
I see you in my mind
You dance across my soul
A ghost that never dies

Like a wave of endless night
You break upon my thoughts
Crashing upon the shore
Sand of shattered memories
Grit of broken pearls.

Oh Cleric, a day doesn’t go past when I don’t think of you, yearn for you, mourn for you
Gods I loved you, I love you, I will always love you.
Why do you haunt me so?
Why can’t I let you go?

You dance across the floor of time
Your steps following after mine
Echoing forever through my mind.

So no goodbye, no letter of explanation. Just rumours and pirate gossip of dubious sightings of her ship sailing off into the distance with herself and the witch aboard.

Interesting

To move in the darkness, silent, unseen: to bring death with naught but a flash of blade and gleam of eye, to let loose the rage, unbound, unfettered, unforgiving, to dance heartbeat against heartbeat, body against body until there is but one then none, just notes lost in the rhythm and beat of the dance.

Yet all things must come to an end eventually and the world will intrude once more.

Here in the darkness where no eyes are watching I can be me, there is no need for masks, nor facades I do not need to keep the world beyond arms reach, to don armour unbreakable, to clothe myself in anger and rage, though neither is ever very far away anyway. Why the need for such things. If they cannot see me, know me or touch me, they cannot hurt nor betray me.

Not all are kept at bay, no person can ever really be a mountain and those that get in I want to keep in, to protect and to keep safe. I would blight the eyes of the world so it cannot see then, burn it so it cannot touch them, to strike it before it can strike them.

I cannot do so and let them be all that they can and deserve to be. It is not my place to shield them, to be a barrier between them and the world. I must trust them as they trust me, stand beside and not in front. I must let them be free! I have no right to hide them away like some coveted gem. I wish to protect them yes….but they are not some lifeless but pretty gem. They must breath, live. They need to run unfettered and free.

My heart breaks, the dance calls..

It’s so typical... outwitted by my own cleverness.

It was a fine, clear day, so we spent it relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. I should have known something was up... she had that look of trouble in those emerald green eyes of hers; that gleam, a watchful amused stillness. She distracted me with that temptress smile of her's... And those legs... Oh, those legs... And that siren's body; not to mention her wicked tongue and sharp mind. It wasn’t till the day's end—when the sky was painted with dark purples, vivid pinks, crimson reds and vibrant oranges; after the last, brilliant rays of the battle-weary sun sank, defeated beneath the horizon—that she sprung her little trap.

“Oh, Serg?” She called out softly. She lays there, sprawled on her side on the blanket, her head propped up by her hand and elbow; a wicked smile blooming on her luscious lips.

“What?” I replied, half-distractedly as I re-laced my bootstraps.

“You do realize you aren’t going to get away with this mornings fiasco, don’t you?” She said in that soft, overly-sweet, satisfied and smug tone of hers.

My head snapped up instantly; giving her my full and undivided attention. I narrowed my eyes slightly, indicating my displeasure of the conversation topic. “What fiasco are you referring to, Red?” I asked, pleasantly, with a hint of menace in my voice, hoping that she would get the hint and drop it. But, no; she just laid there and began to slowly smile, like a demonic Cheshire cat.

“Oh, you know... The one where you went running off to kill demons, looking all shiny and glowy. How did you so truculently put it?” She then had the audacity to close her eyes and tilt her head up to the sky; no doubt, trying to make out that she needed the time to rumple through that twisted, devious mind of hers and hunt down the elusive memory. We both knew she had forgotten nothing. “Oh that’s it!” She said triumphantly, as she opened those beautiful jewel-coloured eyes of hers, and smiled with devilish amusement. “Looking gaudier than a painted, two-bit doxie during Fall Festival.”

I glared at her. My eyes narrowing further, flashing amethyst-coloured daggers of death in her direction. Here I was, doing the right thing, protecting the land and it's people from the constant onslaught of demonic attacks; and here she was, trying to take advantage of my good-nature, all because I had left her at the life monument. Oh yes... do not, for a second, think she was doing this because I had acted like a good Samaritan... Oh, no... She had been right there, beside me; slashing and slicing, backstabbing and dicing, looking even more like the proverbial, painted doxie than I. No, this was because I had had the good-fortune to have had a reset scroll on me. I left her, eating my dust, at a life monument, as I ran off and finished those darn demons on my own... And got the loot, to boot.

Still... I had been glowing brighter than a tinker's daughter, selling her wares under the light of a full moon... Seragil Shadowsong running around Dundee, like an enchanter's night light, was not something I wanted people to know about.

“No one would believe you, my sweet, pirate doxie, wharf rat.” I said with a wry smile, confident that my evaluation of the situation was correct. Let's face it: my distaste and rejection of blessings and enchantments were well known. The last enchanter who cast their stupid spells on me lost their hands... The last cleric that blessed me had a gaping hole in their side, to heal, for every foul glow they attached to my body and items. Nope; I was safe, in my belief, that denial was the only defense I'd need.

“I have witnesses.”

Oh, the sweet, smugness in her tone as she said that. Despicable. I lifted my head and looked at her. A quick death often stilled loose tongues...

“Notice that I said witnesses, Serg... as in, more than one...” She actually bat her eyes at me. To think, I had been laying gentle kisses on their lids but a few moments ago.

“What are the names of these, so called, witnesses?“ I asked, with a raised eyebrow, as I tried to look friendly and amicable. I knew it wouldn’t work... but I had to try, right? She just rolled over and laughed, her body gently vibrating with her mirth. “What do you want, Red?” I asked her again, with a flat-toned voice. She had me over a barrel and I knew it. I was not impressed. Damn rogue!

She smiled... I mean, really; talk about rubbing salt in the wound. She smiled and blinked at me, languidly; her whole body radiating smug satisfaction and amused glee. I couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it... and her... but then, that's her way, isn’t it? She’ll rob you blind and you just don’t care, not until she's long gone... Got to love her style.

“I don’t know, Serg... What's my silence worth to you?” She asked, her voice almost purring with contentment. I narrowed my eyes again and scowled.

“How much plat are you after?”

“Plat? ...Plat?” Her voice was thick with the sound of anger and contempt. “Do you think I can be bought so easily? Please... You have plat like a desert zombie has sand. No, I want something with a little more meaning, thank you.”

More meaning? My unlaced, booted foot slid out from under me and hit the ground with a soft, yet audible, thud. What exactly was this going to cost me? Some of my rare food items? Hmmmm... I could part with one or two of them, I thought. Or, maybe she wanted some of my tradable, working invasion ingots. I mean, lets face it: they may be pretty to look at, but unless one was going to trade them, or use them, they were kind of useless... I just kept them because you cold no longer get them. The Old Invasion Ingots one can get now don’t seem to work; to use these old tradable, workable ones for use in a brown just seemed... Well, wasteful, really. So they just sat there. So, yeah... I figured she could have one or two of those. I doubted she would want my collection of Ana Sacrata Toilet Paper. What was left? My rare, upgraded, moded weapons? My Candy Ball of Doom? My complete set of wooden child's armour? No, those items would have to be taken from the grasp of my cold dead corpse.

I, sure as Hades, wasn’t going to ask her what she wanted again... So, I just raised an imperious eyebrow and looked at her. She sat up, resting her weight on her elbows, as she crossed her leg over her knee and shook her ankle at me impatiently. The soft tinkling of her anklet filled the small clearing as she just sat and smiled expectantly at me; her hair billowing softly around her.

“What, then?” Can you blame me if I sounded querulous? Ok, so I gave in... Patience has never been my forte; more often than not, it's my downfall. Yeah, yeah... A man has to have some faults, right? Perfection just gets boring.

She just smiled and jangled that darn anklet a little harder. Trying not to get annoyed, I just smiled back. But that darn jingling was grating on my nerves and, unable to help myself, I narrowed my eyes and glared at her stupid anklet, hoping she’d get the hint. It is a horrid looking thing... Well, not really; it's quite pretty actually... It's gold and silver wire, twisted around her ankle and encased with rings.

Okay, so on very rare occasions, I can be slow as well.

“Rings? You want a ring?” I asked, with a hint of disdain. I mean, really... a ring? Her silence for a petty little bauble. It was contemptible and almost insulting.

She just smiled more and started to wiggle her toes, as well as jingle that anklet, at me. What... did she want a different one? Something unique? Well, she wasn’t getting my blessed ring, either... Besides, it had been recently taken, without my permission, by a certain sea-stinking, scurvy-ridden, lice-bitten, black-haired, brown-eyed, thick-fingered, ham-fisted rogue. Let's not talk about my ring; it makes me mad.

So, I looked harder at her anklet... And suddenly, it dawned on me. Her anklet was her love tokens. Every ring represented another stolen heart; someone's stolen broken heart. They were promise rings!

“You want a promise ring?” I asked incredulously. She raised both eyebrows and gave me a look. What can you get that's better then a promise ring?

My jaw almost hit the ground.

“Bonded?!” I squeaked. I tried again, ”you want to get bonded?!” Nope... Still squeaking. “You want me to Bond you?” I said slowly, uncertainly, disbelievingly... “You want to Bond me?” This was... She was just messing with me, right? “You, want us,” I pointed to her and then me, “to get bonded... To each other?”

Why was she laughing? I did not see the humour here... I mean, really... so not appropriate for the situation.

“Why?”

Her lips twitched and then she smiled. Her emerald eyes almost shimmering with amusement as they caught the last light of the evening. The sky was a soft purple-blue behind her; the first stars shimmered gently, as a soft wind ruffled her crimson hair around her. She shrugged, then sat up and crossed her arms over my legs. “Why not?” She looked up at me with all seriousness now, all amusement gone. “We will just be confirming what we have and feel for each other anyway...”

“I suppose,” I said hesitantly, still not one-hundred percent sold on the idea. Don’t get me wrong... I didn’t hate the idea, or even really oppose to it. We were, in fact, an excellent match for each other. We understood each other, respected one another, were confident with and how we felt about each other and trusted one another completely. I loved her and she loved me. But still... Bonding?

“And, just think how many people it would annoy!” She added, with an impish smile and a wickedly amused glint in her eyes.
Now that idea appealed to me; I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Okay, lets do it.”

She blinked at me; stunned, I think. Stunned at the fact that I agreed so quickly? Possibly, but then, as I said before, I didn’t hate the idea. Getting bonded just hadn’t occurred to me. Well, getting bonded again, that is. No... Red wasn’t my hearts first love, but I was older now and things were different. I was slightly different. And my first love was gone. No... Red wasn’t my first love, but she was my last. I would be content being bonded with her; happy, even joyful, and, not to mention, one lucky, damned rogue.

“Really?” She asked as she leaned back from me slightly, a look of uncertainty on her face.

“Well it's not like we have to get bonded immediately...” I flaming hoped not anyway; my nerves were a little jangled, to say the least.

“Too late!” I turned sharply, as this obnoxious voice shrilled out of the shadows, and out she stepped the second-highest ranked cleric in our guild. Don’t get me wrong; I am rather fond of this particular cleric, but right then, I could have scalped her... Again.

“What are you talking about?” I snarled at her... I knew what she meant, and she could flaming well keep her twitchy nose out of our business.

“I heard it all; you can’t get out of it now!”

The guild's gators hadn’t been fed lately... A sharp dagger, a quick flick of my wrist, and they could be munching on Cleric Tartar. “I can get out of anything I wish, Ceric!” I replied to her, scathingly. I mean, seriously... annoying, or what?

She raised her chin and sniffed at me. “I don’t think so, Seragil Shadowsong; you are, by far, too sneaky, slippery and deceitful. No, I think it's best to do it now.”

What did she mean, do it now? Do what now? The Bonding? Quick, someone stab her already!

She pulled herself up, trying to look all cleric-y, as she opened her enormous mouth.

“By the powers invested in me, by Ben The World-builder, I hereby announce you both Bonded forthwith!”

Red tried to stifle a giggle, but I was having none of it. I will get bonded in my own darn time and of my own choosing. The silly little cleric had just given me a great idea and the perfect out! HA!

“Ben Schmen,” I said with amused and self-righteous glee. “We Rogues have our own Goddess, now, and I won’t be bonded by anyone less.” Oh, I had her now.... but I didn’t want to seem like I was refusing; I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to get bonded right this second. So, I figured I could lay some helpful stipulations. “I’ll tell you what, little cleric,” I said with a smirk of amusement, “If you can get our new Goddess to bless Red's and my union... I’ll do it.” Ha! Like the Gods were ever going to bless my bonding! Oh, the Cleverness of Me!

The next instant, the night stilled... Like, totally went still and silent. Suddenly Red and I started to glow, to shimmer, to Radiate Gods Blessings... I mean, forget a gaudier little two-bit doxie; we glowed like the flaming moon!

Oh, how I hate the gods at times... This was so one of those times!

The cleric started clapping joyfully before falling to her knees and praying... ick

I just stood there, dumbfounded and in shock, before turning my face to the heavens and wailing, “But... But... I don’t wannaaa!!”

The next moment, Red jumped on me, knocking me to the ground, and kissed me.

“Mine!” She said fervently, her green eyes shimmering with love and laughter before kissing me again, deeply. Yeah, I really can’t complain. What can I say? I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her back.

So, yeah... I was hornswoggled into bonding Red by the Gods themselves. Talk about a match made in Heaven. And, for all my complaining and whining and side stepping, I really am as happy as a rogue in a kind treasure chamber.

I don't know how I get myself into these situations....but a promise is a promise. It may not be a story but its something. To show her or not to show her? That is the question.

Trouble comes, moving like wind
Beguiling, tempting, teasing
Corrupting , unrepenting

Come for me in darkness
Dance with me in shadows
Enraptured, enslaved, bewitched
You steal me with a kiss

Uncaring, unencumbered
Beckoning like a siren
A labyrinth of sin

Come for me in darkness
Dance with me in shadows
Enraptured, enslaved, bewitched
You steal me with a kiss

Conquest made and conquest won,
baubles taken
Their song is done

Come for me in darkness
Dance with me in shadows
Enraptured, enslaved, bewitched
You steal me with a kiss

Heart broken, Paupered,
left weeping, Lamenting,
Craving unending

Come for me in darkness
Dance with me in shadows
Enraptured, enslaved, bewitched
You steal me with a kiss

Can you save me? Can I save myself? You left me, alone and weeping at your resting place, you took the best I had to offer with you, a shadow is what was left behind, a shadow with no light to relieve it. I don’t blame you, how can I? I love you, will always love you and lets be honest...I left first, I couldn’t handle it...the pressure, the heartache, the ugliness, but I never meant to leave you and I never thought...never thought you would leave me the way you did, you faded so slowly and yet so quickly, like water or sand slipping through my fingers, there until not there, merely a memory.

I ache for you so very much these days, apparently for no reason i can fathom I am awake and my old pain is gone, the empathy of the past has lifted but the pain of your absence is sharp and unending, but then...it has always been that way. Can you save me, can I save myself? I remember everything about you, the shimmer of your hair, your scent, and the sound of your laughter, your caress...your spirit....gods, your spirit, and the light of your emerald eyes. I miss you so very much. Do you miss me even a little?

I see you sometimes, walking down the street, clad in your leathers, daggers at your side, your hair still tumbling around you, wild and free. But oh...I remember the cleric...remember so much about you, but when your green eyes spot mine finally, there is nothing....nothing, not even a shadow of memory. I use to tease that you would be the death of me, and I was right...Oh how i was right.

Can you save me from the emptiness you left behind? Can I save myself from the desolation loving you has created? Do I want to?

Well I have once more gained enough skill to again don the aegis crystal and thanks to the small fortune left to me by a departed friend i was able to buy some much needed new armour, but this sense of achievement only lasted a little while and then i once again found myself wondering the lands searching. Searching for what I no longer know, but I feel disquiet, empty I guess. I could go slay some monsters, its mindless work but it allows me to use what assassin skills I have...ah but thats also it isn’t it? I forget I am no assassin here, no skilled fighter, no thief or even a petty pick pocketer, I am a rogue and all a rogue does is open locks, silly me.

Back to the monsters, I killed them with ease, one after another, one move flowed into another and blade followed blade and another monster fell. It allowed me to express my anger, my rage in a way that harmed neither myself, the Gods or those around me, not that I overly care about the last two. Now all I feel is hollow, so I went in search of a quite place to sit, to think and then realised I have no place to go to, no place to belong, no place to call my own, a place to call home. My own doing and my own choice of course. What am I to do with myself? What is my purpose here, where do I fit into Valornian society, into the community and do I want to fit in? I am no longer quite the person i once was but neither will I ever be the person society would have me be. Where do I go from here?

I love the rain, the fresh clean scent of it. The way it makes everything look new and bright, or the way it glistens as it falls from leaf to leaf as it is doing now as I watch, curled comfortably on my side beside the flickering fire I have made for the night, in these dark yet comforting woods. But I have to admit...the rain is also making me think of the offer I was made of joining a guild, I love the woods, the freedom of distant and wild places, the outdoors so to speak, but I miss having a home too. There is nothing like rain dripping on your head whilst you are trying to sleep to bring that fact to life.
Still, it’s not the Imps is it? this new guild. I mean...they have a frikking cathedral in their guild hall for crying out loud. It’s big, bright, white, and filled with statues of the gods...eeehkk...I nearly vomited. Told em I will think about it...and then suggested those statues would be put to better use if they were turned into urinals...They said they will think about my application and thanks for the suggestions. Well if I join... trust me...they will be used as urinals whether they are made into ones or not.

So...Yeah. I guess the woods will be my home for awhile yet, and that’s okay too since I get on well with the bandits, cutthroats and riffraff that also call these woods their home. But I have to say, this guild had a dark room that I couldn’t enter in a dark hallway in a shadow filled catacomb that well...it called to me. Let’s be honest...it probably only called to me because i couldn’t enter it, but still, it called to me none the less. I’m a rogue, a true rogue and if I must admit to having a fault...besides greed, arrogance and a bright sunny disposition I would have to say...curiosity would definitely have to be a big one...if I had any faults that is, which I don’t.

So here I am, warm, clean, comfortable and relaxed after a long day of mucking around in spider webs, spider goo and spider...well never mind, I’m sure if someone reads this they will get the picture...or not...no doubt it would be my luck and a Valornian would be reading this and...well...they really aren’t that bright.

So...home...or the possibility of one anyway, it’s an interesting idea but not perhaps a feasible one. Oh well, what’s life but a mosaic of dreams, shattered, attained, unreachable, abandoned, forgotten, lost and left behind all glued together so that we can pretend to have something solid and real...something of meaning and then have it named...The Will of the Gods... Bleh...See?...Urinals.

So....I spoke to the Enchantress. I had forgotten how much I miss her and never realized how much my journal is filled with her till I went back and read through the pages. So where do I go from here? She sleeps and I know as everyone knows..I won't stick around this mud ball of a place for long...its too...provincial. Well...it used to be. I have been away for a long time so things may have changed....the people may have changed...for the better...hopefully.

I guess the real question is...What is it I really want, what is it I want to do, to achieve? Can I fit in here, do I want to? Can I be me...the real me and servive in this place?
What Do I Want To Do?

I don't know...I really don't.

I've statred training again... I guess that means I'm staying...for now

Ahhh my old journal...How I have missed thee.
Yes, I am back!
Why is that just because you have been away for awhile people assume you are dead? Hmmmm wishfull thinking perhaps?
I will write here what i told someone today
I am who I am. I am in the whisper of the wind, the cool caress of every dark shadow, I am in every dark laugh and that wicked gleam in a persons eyes. I am Seragil Shadowsong and my presence is always felt though I am rarely seen, I can never be captured nor ever tamed.
I am also concieted, arrogant and at times rudely impolite. Those who know me well also know...I am full of bos dung...as for those who don't know me well. Well they don't matter anyway.

So...what have I been up too and where have I been?
Thats really no ones business but mine...not even yours Oh Beloved Journal.
I have been away and I have been busy, thats all you need to know and now I am back...for now anyway.

I ran into Kitty whilst I was at Jeffrey's...and yes..His ale is still nothing but rat infused swill...and he still sells no food. How does he stay in business?
I degress...where was I...ahhh Kitty...she's quiter then I remember, more subdued...not that she was ever in your face as most of my other Imps were...or as I am. But still....what is it about Trinald that drains the fire out of people?

No... I will not go into my usual "Valornians are Nothing but an Endless Sucking Pit of Misery" speel...its gotten old...no matter how true
Digressing again

Kitty ...Its was good to see her...good to make her spark and hiss again...good to know there are still a few imps around. Even if she did circle around my feet and meow and nag till I spent my beloved plat!
I also spoke to my sister...I knew she would land on her feet and find a new home...as alike as we are...well no..actualy we aren't that alike...my sister tends to keep the peace where I tend to say Burn baby Burn and to Hades with the World, the Greater Good and the Brothership of Man. She has my temper though...and my intolarance of Fools...but she stays in Valorn ...which says she has a higher tolerance for them then I. Oh well as imperfect as she is...I still love her, we can't both be as fabulously perfect as I am.

I spoke to Blue...she hinted she wanted another story from me...I will think about it.

I spoke to the Enchantress...

So lets see. I'm back for five seconds and zombies want to dance with me, Corum throws a gauntlet at me and I have desert sand in my boots, down my britches and up places I can't mention. Yeah..I've really missed Valorn!

But solitude in the desert allows one time to think, so the real question is...Do I really want to? Doing it would be amusing but it is not something to be taken lightly. Do I have the heart, the dedication.

Time, time to think, to consider, while I do it I will train and re learn the lay of the Land..I have been gone a long time and between now and then I will see if i will stay...and if I do.....ahhh if only they could hear me laughing as i write this. Poor fools...Pray.

I had promised her a story. I've always liked writting and since my guild and its library are gone I have no where else to write them but in here. My stolen clerical prayer book. I will have to show her later...I hope she likes it but in everything I do...it is a mixture of light and shadow...as it should be as it is, as it was meant to be.


The sun had almost set, its orange and crimson fingers streaked across the sky, offering what little hope it could to the soon to be night clasped land below as she placed the plate of food before her constantly chattering child. She turned to the window and smiled at the beauty of the skies aubade to the light. It had been a peaceful day at the village, crops had been planted, gardens had been tended and the animals been let out for the first time in months. Spring was finally here and that was plenty enough to smile about. So humming a little tune under her breath she placed her supper on the table beside her child and tickled her just for the sheer joy of hearing her laughter. She was her youngest and her last. Her two other children were nearly grown now; were grown in their own eyes and had moved out the year before in search of fame and fortune she missed them and worried about them and prayed the gods kept them safe, it was all she could do that and love them; always. She had just explained an answer to one of the constant questions that flowed from her daughter’s mouth when a high piercing noise shattered the peace of the evening air. Fear gripped her and panicking she grabbed her child and ran outside searching for the source of the noise, for danger and the direction of safety only to scream in terror as she spotted the demons running out from behind the village houses. She ran in the opposite direction her child held tightly against her as her heart beat in her throat, threatening to burst from her chest with fear when her ankle twisted on her as she slipped on a loose rock under her foot and fell to the ground. She turned terror filling her eyes as a whimper escaped her lips and scurried backwards, her feet digging into the dirt as a demon slowly approached her, a cruel vicious smile forming on its ugly face. It raised its halberd and screamed in triumph as it readied for its downward swing only to stumble backwards with a look of shock as it gazed at the large smoking hole that had suddenly appeared in its chest, it blinked once before dissolving into a dark dissipating goo, leaving behind nothing but some armour and its dark glinting blade on the ground. She jumped, startled as a face appeared above her, human and friendly dressed in dark red robes. He offered her a hand up and after checking she and her daughter are uninjured takes her quickly to an area that had been set aside for anyone escaping the attack. She sat, huddling with the other villages in the circle of armored men and woman the early evening air filled with the clash of blade on blade, the soul searing howl of demons and the war cries of the people fighting them and watched in awe as they battled it out with the demons, their armor gleamed brightly reflecting the last glimmers of the light from the dieing sun as they teamed up with men and women in red robes with flashing staffs of raw elemental power, Their attacks were devastating and amazing to watch, demons ran in terror from them only to be attacked by the shadows themselves, shadows armed with twirling and twisting blades, shadows that with a blink of the eye were revealed to be men and woman dressed in dark armor only to disappear again. And amongst them all ran men and woman alight with a holy glow, tending and healing the wounded and injured. These were the protectors of Valorn in all their strength and glory. The woman tucked her head against her child and cried silently, her heart filled with relief, hope and gratitude towards the men and woman fighting before her, fighting and protecting her and everyone else. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and pressing her tightly against herself prayed to the gods; a prayer of thanks and a hymn to the heroes around her.



He crawled out from under the table where he had been thrown, his ankle was twisted and blood dribbled down his face from the head wound, a wound that made his head thump and ache, making him wish it would just explode and put him out of his misery. He stumbled his way across the room, his feet leaving smeared bloody tracks across the floor and fell to his knees beside the bodies of his sister and her son. The attack had been quick the only warning a loud piercing noise in the night, they had tried to escape but had been too slow, the demons for he was sure that was what they were had busted through the door just as they had reached it. They had attacked him first, he had hoped to distract them so that his sister and child could escape but the first demon had simply smashed him with its dark shield and sent him flying backwards. That was all he could remember of the fight as he gathered and held his sisters and nephews bodies against himself, silent tears of anguish, guilt and loss ran down his face. He gently lay his sister back on the ground and caressed her face in sorrow as soft almost inaudible words of apologies and regret slipped mindlessly from his lips. She had been the last of his family and they had loved each other dearly. Their parents had died when they had been children, leaving them orphaned at an early age to be raised by gentle clerics. At their age of maturity they had been given what inheritance had been left them and together bought a small plot of land and an apothecary shop. His sister bonded but their life was too harshtoo poor and too small for the city man she had married and he had ran off leaving behind a new born babe and a broken hearted wife. Their life had been a simple one, a life that like most; had been more then touched with a little sadness but for most it had been a good and happy one,. They had had each other to lean on and her child had bought them both joy. He leant forward and as a soft sob escaped him he kissed her on the forehead. He could not leave them here on the ground like a pair of unloved and inconsequently nobodies. So weak, confused and full of grief he stumbled to his feet, his nephew held tightly in his arms as he stumbled to the door and the clear open sky. Once outside he looked around and once again fell to his knees in shock. The village was gone, house after house was either destroyed or burning, the small village streets littered with bodies, bodies of friends and people he had known for much of his life. It was gone, everything he had known and loved was gone and destroyed, left to rot and burn under the cool silvery light of the clear cool night sky. He clasped his nephew to his chest and screamed in rage, in grief, in loss. He howled his anguish to the night and at the damned gods who had abandoned him when he and his family needed them the most. He howled as a glimmer of reflected light shimmered against the edge of the horizon, as flashes of light and the soft cries of battle once again filled the air. He knew what it was, they came, they always came but this time they came too late, too late to save anyone, too late for hope, for salvation, to be of any use what so ever. He screamed at them in rage and rejection, he screamed only to sob as his nephew’s arm fell limp from his body and brushed against him. He cried, his heart and soul broken as a shadow fell across him. He looked up and looked into the yellow gleam of a demon’s eyes and subconsciously huddled over his nephew’s body to offer that sad body what protection he could. Now silent he watched as the demon raised its axe and noticed just how bright the night sky was behind it. The stars shimmered brightly in the indigo coloured heavens and what few whispy clouds were out were filled with a silvery almost mystical light as the moon, white, full and swollen sent her gaze across the land. He had all the time in the world to marvel at that beauty and no time at all. His last thought was how remarkable the similarities between the stars and the shine of the axe that reflected their light. How cold and distant, how bright and sharp, how totally irreverent, uncaring and… beautiful.

So it has come to this. I can't say I didn't expect it and in all fairness its time, the end of the Imps. At least I get to say goodbye, to walk my halls one more time, to say goodbye as I clean the rooms, seal the doors and sign the disbandment form. At least I get to end it and not have someone else do it.

The hallways echo with my footfalls as I walk to the Grand Hall, the feast hall as we called it. It never got used much but Hayate's last gift to us is here, he made it in celebration of our first birthday. Gods we were a mad bunch, young and carefree and so...controversial, how many other guilds can say they caused an uproar at the moment of their conception with nothing more then their name? I can't help but laugh at the memory as I close the big oak doors behind me, Laughter...its something we did a lot.

As I climb the spiral staircase that leads up from the main corridor I am sure I can hear whispers and voices, memories of laughter of arguments. Of Tusonee carrying an almost unconscious and very drunk Sylvana up to her rooms, or she of the Wicked Hands and Gentle Smile, standing here in all her elegant beauty with a raised eyebrow as I wait for her down the bottom, asking her for a dance, or Hayate standing here making an impromptu speech about his god forsaken light saber...gods was that a rowdy night! A grin spreads across my face at the memory; we had a lot of those too.

The Library, who would have thought we had one, more importantly...that we used and loved it, my heart twists a little as I pack our books away. Here is my collection of Beasts of the Golden Age, a manuscript I was putting together of legends and mad ramblings of creatures long lost and probably never existed. It's a shame I never finished it. Or these, the Imp's collection of short stories. Nearly every single one of us tried our hands at writing in one form or another. Here is Ansalans one, covered in dust, I grimace as I wipe it off then sigh in resignation as I look around, everything is covered in dust. Tinks would kill me if she knew. I put it in the chest along with his collection of poems; I grimace then laugh at the last. He wrote so flaming many and made me read every single one. Not that I really minded, if you look past the bad grammar and eye twisting syntax, he had some rather deep and interesting concepts. Of his works his story was my favourite though. Hayate’s and my stories are next, once again most are not finished. I tap my fingers on the bookshelves as I look at mine. I could finish it, always meant to. I sigh, what would be the point. There is no one left to read them. We told so many stories in this room, shared dreams over snifters of ambrosia and ale by the firelight. I can’t count the time I found her asleep here, curled up on one of the couches, her cascade of rich curling chestnut coloured hair tumbled around her, a clerical book of holy power fallen on the floor beside her. I’m sure she fell asleep as soon as she touched the things. Not that I’m complaining, I loved nothing more then to scoop her up, her head resting on my shoulder as I carried her to bed.
Ahhh and here is our collection of Valornian secrets, my lips twist in wry amusement as I carefully take them to a brazier and burn them. Once we knew nearly everyone’s dark little secrets, who hated who and why, who was feuding with who and plotting their downfall. But more…we knew nearly everyon’s secret identities. We did it for no other reason then our own amusement, not for gossip nor for power, but just for something to do…because we could. We gathered it but never gave it out, that would have been crass indeed and so very beneath us. Even now as I burn them I can’t help but laugh. My fellow Valornians so flaming clueless..

I narrow my eyes in speculation as I came across a map of the rogue tunnels drawn up in my writing, when did I?….. Ahhh I throw my head back and laugh. The war with Ethucan, not even two weeks old were we and we helped start a war with another continent. A bunch of pompous morons the lot of them. And this..a scrap of paper from Sunrifter castle I grin evily as I gaze at the scribbled doodle and quickly burn it. Less said the better but oh how I would love to share that little secret.

Enough, the books are packed, I will send them off to storage on the way down, now its up to Montanus Cafe I always loved the view from this room and Lucas’ French Silk Pie. He never would tell me what was in it but my mouth waters even now as I think of it. Can I cook? I smile at the thought…but the answer is…oh yes indeed. The question is…would you eat it? My green eyed cleric never would, my cooking well/…the effects were…¦interesting, to say the least. We had some good times in this room, food fights and parties…we were a rambunctious lot.

I’m in the antre now. Our underground pool, the last room made here the Enchantress and I spent a lot of time here, swimming, telling stories, giving each other a shoulder to lean on, an ear to bend…a place to hide from the world. I love the sound of the dripping water down the cavern walls, the flicker of torch light amongst the thick shadows and shifting mist from the warm pool waters. I will miss the…quiet contemplation it offered…my own cave of night so to speak. I blow out the last torch as I climb the stairs, my breath is a little unsteady and there is a heaviness in my chest, my steps.

The training room, ahhh the memories of spars between myself and my sister Alanna…she should have realized what everyone knows…No one can out fight a rogue cold steel to cold steel. Especially no mail-clunking warrior. Blade work requires finesse, grace and agility. You want something killed call a rogue, you want firewood call a warrior. I smile as I run my fingers along the now empty weapon racks, this was not always a training room, once the stairs lead down into a shadow filled room, containing nothing but the cool glint of metal, the kiss of flickering flames. I remember so clearly stepping onto the room and finding her there. Her hair falling over her shoulders as she sat on the table, her bright green eyes seeming almost iridescent as they shone in the dim firelight, her robes like living shadows clinging to her skin…ahhh her skin, like smooth creamy alabaster, it seemed to shimmer in the light, golden kissed as if the fire it self wanted to caress and taste her. That woman could capture me with nothing but a look, mesmerize me with her laugh, enslave me with her scent, with just a caress from her elegant, wicked fingertips, a glide along my cheek was enough. She was…is a woman to die for…but her looks are nothing to the person within. Gods…I miss her.

I’m stalling now, leading off from this room is another door, two golden swords mark the front of it. The memory of her is thick enough here...that room…my room. Its just an office made for me by Hayate, it holds nothing but a few sentimental treasures, a rack for my twin falchions, a bookcase…yes I love books and my desk and chair…and piles and piles of paper work. This room has been painted pink and purple with garish flowers on the walls in nail polish by that flaming guttersnipe and Jaye and her horrid little stingray. Ahhh gods how they made me laugh…the antics of the Imps…there was nothing stoic or restrained about us…we were free and wholly ourselves…always
She used to wait for me here sometimes, she’d stand in front of the bookcase, her back to the door, her hair cascading down around her in a riot of rich chestnut brown curls, deep, dark and vibrant, just like her, the flash of her green eyes, her smile, so gentle and wicked. Many thought of her as the wallflower Imp…but they didn’t know her, probably still don’t…she was quieter then her sister, no…not quieter just lest loud, but she was more passionate, more sensual in a subtle, elegant kind of way. Not to mention a hell of a lot smarter too. I lived to see her smile, to her hear laugh, just hearing her footfall coming down the hall way would settle and calm me, no matter what kind of day I had. Don’t get me wrong…we weren’t all roses and candy…we fought too. I am not the easiest person to get along with. I am stubborn and brash, easy to anger and less forgiving then Ben himself. I wonder how she is now.¦

I can’t believe I still have this. I found it in my desk a carved leaf from the throne of the Amazon queen herself…yea gods! I remember that day…flaming Domo Khan! He was a young Imp and.had sneaked into the Amazon throne room and scratched his name into the queens chair. Naturally he was caught by…I can’t help but laugh. He was found by Jessa, Asrai, Stara Narina Fey and others. They had him trussed, beaten and were getting ready to skin his hide when he called me…naturally I came. I moved from shadow to shadow and snuck up behind them in that flower, vine kissed room and knocked Jessa on her backside before she could stick him through the heart with her novice pig sticker of a sword. Well if you know Jessa you can imagine the tussle that ensued, Domo hid under the throne while I had to face four or five angry fierce amazons. Say what you will about them but the amazons were a force to reckon with, fierce proud and loyal, every single one of them knew how to kick butt and weren’t afraid to fight dirty either…gods they were amazing! I did manage to boot that brat Ruby Falcon across the room though…gah I couldn’t stand that little… .Anyway there I was, captured, stripped, hanging from my heels and about to be gelded by that red headed cleric and the Guttersnipe rogue in training her self when Arlanna The Keen walked in….I cant remember why I was released but I was and while I stood there listening to Ruby and Stara drone on about how I should be made to kneel and grovel and apologize and boring stuff like that I quietly sliced a leaf off of that throne, a big mocking grin splitting my face as I looked at Star…man did she fly into a rage then, not at the leaf they didn’t know what I had done, but that I dared to stand there and grin at her after attacking them in the halls and blah blah blah. I was never much on lectures. I wonder what that guttersnipe of a rogue and the red headed cleric would say if they knew I had this…once they were the fiercest, most loyal and proudest Amazons I knew. Have I ever told Jessa just how proud of her I am...my protégé; gods can that little cur fight hard not to mention dirty. The little guttersnipe, I hope she never changes. As for that red headed cleric. She is was one of my closest friends, but by the gods do we argue with each other…what does it matter now? The Amazons are even deader then the Imps but she sure did make a fantastic queen. I think I am sadder for the Amazons then I am for my own guild…The Imps burnt brightly indeed, but as they say those that burn the hardest die out the fastest and I have absolutely no regrets, not really. I’m sad to let go its true, mainly because I know if I just spent some time, some dedication to Trinald and the guild I could rebuild it..wake it up…But I just don’t have the heart anymore. I haven’t for awhile, Its time to shut the doors, let someone else build their dream and make it live. But the Amazons…they truly had, have something unique to offer the lands. A guild built around a bunch of fierce, independent proud woman, woman who aren’t afraid to stand up and stand toe to toe with any adversary, knowing a sister always had their back. People will no doubt say well that’s the same as any other guild. I say pull your head out of…the bucket…you aren’t good enough to wash their well…anything really. Long Live the Amazons…especially those two. The red head and the guttersnip…not to forget Minnie and Agua..no…one cannot mention the Amazons and leave those two out.

So my office door is shut, my hand is curled around the handle, my back pressed up against the door. For some reason I can’t move from the spot, my hand is shaking and my chest hurts, if I turn and open the door will I see her again, hear her soft voice, her throaty seductive laugh, the flash of her eyes.. I stumble as I push away from the door, my fingertips brushiung the smooth wood behind me one last time. Time to finish this

I have closed the tavern and Alanna’s weapon room. The tavern had seen a lot of hard nights, a lot of drunken nights, laughter and fun, there are scortch marks on the roof, the bar and some chairs, the walls still glitter with unopened bottles and barrels of Lucas’ horrid barbarian ale . I never told him I used to sit there some nights and drink a few glasses of the stuff…its dark, smooth and foamy…it really is a fine drop. I have a bottle of ambrosia and dragonbreath in my pack…just for old times sake. Might even share a glass or two with a few people…or maybe not. Have I ever mentioned I am rather greedy?

Only one room left now, the entrance..it has seen many changes but there is one or two constants. The four imp statues, proud, fierce, arrogant, unyielding and unapologetic for being what they are. Long Live the Imps and the pool of cool water fed from the oasis outside. This place was our citadel, our sanctuary. It was filled with laughter, love, hope, dreams and the sound of family. Outsider entered at their own risk and we liked it that way

The front doors are shut now, shut and barred, there is no going back, my hands tremble as I lean against them. The sun is so bright as I step away. It hurts as I pull Humbolds disbandment form out of my pack and I can’t help but sink to my knees., my hands are so shaky as I take out the quill Its raining, the drops of water are smearing the ink as I sign my name, Humbold will have a hissy fit. Its funny but I could have sworn the sky was blue a second ago, a sun shower perhaps. Well the deed is done and the guild is no more, but we are still here…us Imps…the guild didn/t make us...we made it, we…its people are its heart and soul, all I’ve done is cleared the land for others who can make use of it.

I think I am ill. I keep stumbling in the sand, my feet don’t seem to work properly and my face is wet from the rain, yet as I look around all I see is sunny skies and rippling sand I feel funny, like a stained paned window that’s shattered into a million glittering pieces, the wind howls hungrily around me or so it seems, and yet everything is still and calm. The raindrops taste like salt as I bewilderingly lick the corner of my mouth. Is there a storm and water from the oasis splashed me? But shouldn’t it taste fresh. I sink against the outer walls of Milltown, I should call my green-eyed cleric…but wait…she’s not a cleric anymore is she. That’s ok, I’ll just rest here for a little while…Just for a little while.

Its funny...How many people have brazenly walked up to me and told me how grateful I should be to them for helping start the Imps, have claimed foundership for it.

For a guild everyone supposedly hates they are more then happy to try and claim it. Eager in fact to say they created it.

Senile old fools!

I will write down here the history and creation of the Imps...Just so the truth is known. The Imps were created by no one but myself and Hayate. It was our dream...our creation.

I was new in the lands and like most if not all the people back then..I arrived through a portal, Like most back then Valorn was not, is not my home country but unlike most i didn't come to fight a demon for slaughtering my family, for killing, wiping out my village in the middle of the night leaving me for some unknown reason the sole survivor. No...I came for the simple reason of escaping my past. I am a thief, always have been, always will be. an honorable one...but one all the same. But more then that..I was an assassin for hire in my old lands..I was the best...and i was filthy flaming rich. I had made too many enemies, stepped on too many toes..a habbit of mine it would seem. I had learnt that a land far from my own was looking for adventures to help reclaim a land overthrown by it enemies. I figured...heck, a new start..why not. Naturally there was a catch...there always is. By entering the portal you lost all strength and skills, all possessions one had so far acquired. I figured it was a small price to pay for my life...something I doubted i would have if i stayed where i was....so off i went I still miss my money though. and my treasures...Oh well.

So there i was, weak, dressed in nothing more then rags covered in muck, battering at rats in a slime filled stinky sewer when i started up a conversation with a pretty woman who was waiting for a rogue to come open a sewer grate for her. Her name was Marriana. We chattered for a while...a long while and eventually she said i looked terrible..I said yeah and I smell worse. she laughed, took me to the fountain outside the Building of Glass and introduced me to a young man named Hayate. He was friendly and full of banter and was apparently Marriana's equipment officer. he got me all equiped up just as marriana came back and handed me a form, passed me a quill and told me to sign it. i did and became the fourth or fifth member of a new guild called The Guardians of a New Age. Hayate and I hit it off right from the start..he was so serious or so he seemed and I was my typical...mayhem maker. he was drawn to me like a moth to flame..didn't take me long to realise that underneath that serious veneer he was just a big a hellion as I was. I managed to drag him into all sorts of trouble. Took him to places he knew we were to weak for. I said so? think of the adventure!..he would end up at a life monument and I'd end up rolling in the dirt laughing. Neither one of us was above level 12 yet.

I remember i was on my quest for the IRN shield and was lost in the swamp. I searched and searched for the entrance to the crocodiles lair...finally found it after days, weeks, months of searching and getting continously lost. I battle my way through the giant turtles and vipers, past the uglies mire hag i had ever seen, got down into the lower tunnels...and realised i needed a torch. i couldn't see a darn thing. of course i was in communication with Hayate at the time..and he burst his seams laughing whilst i turnt the air blue with cursing. i wasn't ammused.

we had many discussions on preofessions Hayate and I. He rom the very begining wanted to be a Enchanter. i had no idea. at the time I was seriously considering going cleric. Hayate always laughed when I said it. I thought I would have been an excellent one. i would help people. heal them, tend the gods. We were....big on helping people back then.

Anyway. can't remember where i was. Zombie celler maybe. anyway i stumbled upon a treasure chest. My heart beat a little faster in excitement and old memories...but no..I wanted a new life here. I had turn't a new leaf. I told Marriana about my chest and asked her if she knew a rogue who would be willing to open it for me. She said yes so i stored it in the bank and continued on my wayThings had been getting busy in the GNA Arlanna the Keen was searching for a scepter of Morning Light and Demelza a world reknown cleric had just recieved her UW. The GNa was throwing her a party and we had sworn to help find this mysterious scepter. I was completely clueless as to who these people were, had no idea what a scepter of morning light was nor an UW. But whatever i was a good lad and would help were i could. We were signing people up daily and I was at every sign up. I was the first to greet them. i bought then lemonade or ale. food. i kept them entertained and had them all convinced to sign before Marriana even got there. I was a dran good member and believed in my guild.

But i was faceless. non noble...didn't even know what noble meant. i knew nothing of guild chat, didn't know how Gchat kept members in touch, built relationships. I did it the hard way and was learning that being a nice guy got you used. That being facelss meant you were a no body. Hayate was learning the same, though mainly he felt he was getting used by Marriana. She expected us to recruit, to be her rocks, expected Hayate to look after the noobs. we weren't even lvl 15 yet and got no suport for ourselves. It all came to a head when finally Marriana sent me a rogue for my TB...I was lvl 14 Hayate had joined the ranks of the Enchanters 3 gays earlier. we were sitting in the glass tavern talking about professions. i was still thinking cleric. I would have liked trying enchanter but Hayate and i spent so much time together i didn't want him to feel as if I was crowding him and i felt becomeing an enchanter might do that...take away some of his thunder so o speak. So cleric...why..because i still liked the idea of helping people, i was a little in awe of people such as Urkki and Demelza. I thought they were great...but at the same time..I also thought being able to heal myself would save me sooooo much plat. That idea used to make my eyes glow...being a vleric could make me rich! I told Hayate....he pissed himself laughing

It was at that time Ansalan stepped out of the shadows, a wry smile on his lips and laughter in his eyes. he said Marriana had sent him, had just signed him up and tha she told him I had a tb to open. I felt honoured and humbled...Ansalan seemed...intimidating back then, mysterious and a l;ittle threatning and dangerious. he made a joke about my clerical aspirations and said if my real reasons to becoming a cleric was to save on money and not from any real devoitness then maybe i should go warrior. i sneered at the thought and said they were right. changing leaves was a stupid idea... i was what i was and it was rogue for me.

he popped the tb and low and behold...a crystaline shard. Now...I had promised Marriana that if she found me a rogue i would split what ever the chest contained 50 50 with the guild. I knew a shard sold for about 1.2k and 1.5k...but I had promised Marriana half and thought he trade marke would take too long. so i priced it with jeffry and he was willing to give me 500plat for it.

I would be selling at a loss and anyone who knows me how much that idea kills me...but I had promised and thought Marriana would want the money now. and being a lvl14 noob...250plat was alot of money to me and figured what the hell. surely she would be happy with that. I told Hayate and Ansalan and Ansalan straight away said no....if i was willing to sell it for 500p he would buy it. I looked at him with narrowed eyes and figured he would probably buy it from me and sell it on trade for its proper value. its was a good business plan and something I would have done. I needed money now and so we made the deal.


Well didn't the bos dung hit the ceiling in guild. everyone was screaming at everyone. calling Ansalan all kinds of names. being non noble I had absolutly no ifea what was going on or being said. ansalan left the guild..or got kicked out. he came to me and apologised i said what for whats going on. he said he had ripped me off and owed me cash. i called him a moron and told him a deal was a deal. marriana had her 250 p and so did I he had his shard. whats done is done. aparently not. ansalan the honourable fool had sold the shard and being the genourous dimwit he is had given t 1k he had gotten from it to the guild. then when thebos dung flewhe was suppose to give more plat as recompensation to the guild and plat ti me. He said he would give it to me and had every inention of doing so. i slapped him, told him he was a rogue and to stick some metal down his spine. he laughed, hanked me for reminding him what he was and took me to temple.

Hayate finally come to me and asked what actually happened between ansalan and i..Had he tricked me into giving him the shard. he was the only guild member to do so. The only one who bothered finding out the facts. enough was enough. He and i decided to get he hell out and start our own guild.

He was lvl 18, I was 15...we were and are ambitious.. we did it. we got the form from humbold and left the guild that day

for the next week we slved out guts out trying to raise money for he guild. alanna Sylverhaven and amon blackfyre gave us 100p between them. ansalan gove us 500. Hayate and I farmed 2k...then one day. ectremly frustrated and angry i atacked the monsters at the farm for marcs and mards on end i slaughtered them there headless hens, the gobblers and the stinking mallards. until low and behold i got hree tbs one after the oher i was lvl 16 hayate was 20. I popped them open and found a well made dagger, a demon shield...and a scepter of morning light with three charges. I yelled and screamed with joy. hell i danced on the spot (and fell into that stinking duck pond(

I put the scepter up for sale for 6k...every man and his dog tried to talk me down...hell one crafty old rogue..a weapon tinker no less offered me a crappy upgrade on my stinking rapier...tried to tell me thats the best price i'd get. Please...darn fools had no idea who they were dealing with. i was and am the greatest darn rogue to ever walk these lands....well okay maybe not the best...but I was definitely up the top with the others. I am Seragil Shadowsong. just ask me..I'd tell you.

But it was neither my bartering, manupulative skills, nor my charm that sold that scepter. I believe it was the kindeness of one man. hayates sponsor and mentor. a guy I shall never forget, someone i haven't forgotten and will do anything for, though he probably knows it not. No...I won't say their name...darn sticky beaks! He said he had no need for a scepter as he all ready had one and asked why I wanted such a price for my scepter..It was after all very high. he asked if I would bring it down at all...he said i was after all only lvl 16 and certainly didn't need 6k I told him my and Hayate's dream. he smiled and said he thought I was too young...too inexperianced to run a guild. especially me, hayate was fine though still a little too green. He asked us to join his guild. to wait and grow before we took on the responsibility. he said he had no doubt that in time and with experience we could do it. I told him I wanted my own home, a place where i didn't have to conform to the wishes and goals of another. he smiled and said he understood. he wished us luck and the gods blessings.

When i looked in my pack I had 6k and no scepter....I think I actualy cried. shhh don't tell anyone....I had not thought to find such kindness...such generousity in these lands...oh don't get me wrong...people helped people here...everyone made a big song and dance about it...but their help came with a price tag...or boasting rights. They did it for prestige..as coin. they liked to wrack up how many they had helped, how much it cost and would point out how generous they were...what model citizens. their attitudes help form me into what I am today.

His generousity shocked me to the core. rocked my foundation...and helped me become who I am today

The next day we bought our creation form. hayate asked me what we should call it. I picked the Unholy Imps..for fun, for individuality...to break the mold names where chosen for. he picked the Order for unity, for family. To make us a clan. As for Leadership...I sure as Hades didn't want he job. I know my faults. i have absolutly no diplomacy skiils. i have no patience for politics and absolutly no tolerance for my fellow Valornians. he made friends easyily. had made friends with many other well reknown guild leaders. was great at rubbing shoulders, patient, kind and forgiving. You better believe I pushed him into it.

So The Order of Ubholy Imps was born. we signed up Amon and Alanna on the spot..even bought their resignation forms from humbold and danced when Marriana lost another two members. we then stole Lucas and her and her guild foldee a couple of days later. Bye Bye GNA..Long Live the Imps!

Long has it been since I walked my halls, since I've entered the library and traced my fingers along the spines of the books and along the shelves they stand upon, Lucas café is empty and void of any lingering scents from the kitchen, Alannas tavern is just as empty and the drips of water down the walls by the pool fill the cavern with loneliness. The fountain in the entrance hall sings now for naught but ghosts. My footfalls echo through the different hallways as memories of the laughter that once filled the halls echo through my mind. Nostalgia fills me, eats at me as do the memories of what once was. We are still here. We linger, like ghosts. We wait for an awakening, for something worth waking for, hoping there will someday be something worth waking to.

I remember the laughter that once filled the guild, it spilled from me and mine like silver from the moon on a clear, crisp cloudless night. I miss it. I miss them, I miss me.

I miss the look in her eyes as she told a story, the shimmer of light over her lips as she formed each word so carefully, the twitch in the corner of her mouth as she triednot to smile as I'd interrupt her, question her and just generally annoy her.

Apparently I can be quiet annoying'...who knew?


I am awake and walk the lands again, but...I needed, need something to give me a purpose. I need a challenge, a goal. I think we all do to help us fight that apathy Valorn seems to fill everyone with. What I am really saying is...I need a new avenue to be able to cause hell.

I hung up my daggers today, mounted my duelnasters and have taken on red robes and picked up a staff. Hayate would die...The enchanters academy is gonna burn..Oh indeed it will. Seragil Shadowsong with spellcasting abilities I can smell the fires burning all ready. Adrenaline moves through me once more and my eyes burn with old mischief. I am alive, I am awake...and once again I am filled with my old devilry. Even as I write this I can't stop grinning, my mind is awhirl with plots and adventures, with mayhem and laughter.

It hurt though and still does...putting away my daggers and duelmasters, they are an integril part of me, a part of who I am. They hold so many memories for me. Hayate found my duelmaster at Haggies...long and long ago, it was just laying there in his stand Hayate said and he knew it was meant for me. I have had it ever since. It hurt more then I can put in words when I unclipped it and hung it on the wall. It sits now on my office above the fireplace, the light shimmering over it. I will take it up again. I know it and everyone who knows me knows it. Enchanter is just a phase...but a phase I need right now. It is a reason...an excuse to re-enter the world, to breath, to be...To exist in a world where without a reason to stay, a goal, a purpose, we fade and die as a people. It makes me wonder if that isn't the reason so many of us have faded into the background. We lost our purpose, our reason, that spark of vitality we all had when we first walked the lands of Valorn

I've always loved the blissful silence of the Cave of Night, the quiet darkness with just the glimmer of light from moon or sun glittering across the surface of the pool.

The Spinners of Fate are a pack of spavined heifers

The enchantress is worried, worried over trouble and heartache that I believe will not happen, but she has a point. Valorn is full of trouble making vipers who enjoy nothing but the suffering of others. No doubt they do it because it gives their empty lives a sense of power, justification and the joy of petty vindictiveness.

The ex cleric is awake. Gods just the thought of it fills me with joy. Joy and sorrow both. I want to say her name, to hear it, feel it whisper over my lips, to fill the darkness with the memory of her laughter, her smile, the mischievous flash of her eyes. Yes, I still love her, will always love her. I told the enchantress this and no doubt she hates it, but it's the way it is. But what the ex cleric and I had, it is over now. Gods. I missed and mourned her for so long. The love we had, one for the other... The memory hurts.

I was told she would never wake, all the healers of the land told me she would never awake and I believed them. I gave up hope and believed them. I summoned her spirit and told her that I had to move on and so I did.

Now once again she walks the lands and what we had is over. Never trust anyone, never believe a word they tell you. People don't know bos dung about bos dung.
She is awake and the mere knowledge filled, fills me with joy, to know the sun once again shines on her, that the sweet cool winds once again touch and know her.

Her story and mine is a tragic one and if things had been different...well...things wouldn't have changed. But they did and they are different now, I continued on with life while she slept and I fell in love with another woman and I am happy for it. Our lives must go on, must move forward. There is no going back, we are not meant to.

But...there is something I cannot accept. I saw her the other day, the ex cleric. I saw her and spoke to her. I haven't told the enchantress this, the stark despair of it was too much for me to admit. I saw her and she knew me not. I spoke to her and she looked at me as a stranger would, to look in her eyes and see no recollection, it terrified me in a way nothing else ever has, not even the wrath of the gods which...well lets face it I am who I am and make no apologies for it. But to see nothing but blankness and confusion on her face...Its not that she was my bonded or a member of my guild. Its that she was my friend and I cherished that as I do all my friends. I cannot...I do not want her to forget that. I can live with the loss of everything else, I will mourn it, but can live it. I cannot live with the loss of that, not without a fight anyway. She needs to remember for her own sake as well, to remember who she is, who she was. That way she can step forward with confidence and be the woman she chooses to be.

As for the Enchantress and I. She frets over nothing. I made my choice and she has nothing to fear, one cannot go back in time, they can only go forward and I chose to go forward with her.. She brought joy back into my life, joy laughter and love. Fool of a woman, you doubt for nothing.

Damn the Fates to the bottom of the river Styx and the endless howling voids of Hades. But for the gift of memory all would be well for everyone, a little sad maybe but well none the less..

I cant help but watch her as she sleeps, the curtains billow softly in the night breeze and the light of the night dance's upon her. She looks so peaceful, with her hand resting on her pillow beside her, her face framed delicately by her hair, wisps of it moving in the gente breeze from the windows and balcony doors. I sit and watch, yearning to touch her, stroke my hand along her cheek, my finger across her lips, but the peace of sleep is so fragile and I do not wish to disturb such serenity. In sleep she is free from worries, from the demands of the world and the people around her. So I am content to watch, watching over her gives me a sense of peace in a world fraught with danger and suspicion, these few quite moments are more precious to me then all the plat in the world. She is so beautiful...an enchantress in repose. Gods, I just want to hold her, wrap my arms around her and lay beside her as she sleeps. To know such contentment, but I will be gone long before she wakes and I doubt she will even know I have been here. I should let her go, she is too good for me and can do so much better...my sleeping enchantress.

The night calls to me, pulls at me. The night is where I belong. Rest well love. Sleep deep and dream brightly. When you awake, know I am not far. I am in every shadow, in every whisper, every touch of the wind.

I can't help but read through these pages and the anger in it annoys me, the anger towards valorn. where does it come from? Who is really directed at? I have come to realize it is myself. we Imps were once light hearted and free within ourselves. Then Hayate was sent into exile. no I started to change even before that, to...lessen myself, but yes...Hayate was the death of my spark. Becoming Leader also contributed. People do not realise how leadership restrains one, restricts us. Leaders can not be as care free.

So i started to conform, slowly try and become socially acceptable. I have become a peace keeping boring diplomat. how pathetic.

No more. I will not be, my guild will not be what others would have us be. a trudging lemming with no flavour no spark, just the same acceptable theme with a diffrent name. To Hades with them all.

My guild sleeps, waking it maybe hard, waking the old members maybe imposable. But the barbarian is still there and he at least remembers what was what, how we were, how we should be, will be. Maybe together. Ahhh I can not help but smile at the prospect. yes...mayhaps.

Finally! It has been a flaming long while since I put ink to parchment. I could not find my journal and when I did. It would not open. Usually when things like that happen I'd open her journal and somehow, through magic no dount. I could open mine. But alas. She hid her journal from me. And no longer carried it with her. So I searched through my friends list. Apparently non of them carry a journal either. Damn them all to hades.

Today I stole Ellyannas Journal, she was the first I came across. It opened all the journals for me. Thanks Lili. Don't presume I read it though., I am not curious enough about you to warrant the time it would have taken to do so.

Hmmm so I am back and I have missed it. I have not been in Valorn for a while now. If one must know I have been in distant lands with Hayate and one named Ala and I have been having a ball. They keep getting me killed tho.

Enough of them. I have missed my journal. More'...I have missed hers. I missed her good bye and though I never told her. It bothered me that I never got to read it. I love reading her journal. To feel her words wrap around me, whether sad, angry, regretful, happy, confused.. They are hers. Does she realize what they mean to me, how they, how she makes me feel?

So..I have read her journal. Laughed, smiled. chuckled and felt sad. She is a wonderful woman. She drives me crazy, frustrates me. Confuses me and scares me. Most of all..she fills me with wonder and happiness. I live for her laughter, her smile. I think I do the same to her.

I know what some of you are thinking from reading this. If I dislike Valorn so much, why do I keep coming back to Trinald? Simple. I love my guild, my friends...the enchantress. And I once loved valorn, it had so much potential when I first arrived, the people were still filled with joy, laughter and excitement, with vitality. And right now, even though things are dull, bleak and boring with the world and therefore its people...the potentual is still there and so I hope. I hope and I wait. I also hope that when things do improve and things wake up the more interesting fun loving people will return and drown out most of the stuffy boring creatures that have remained.

Celestia Greycloak. I have not mentioned your name. Not once. Mainly because your name is no one else's business and I have never been a name dropper But my journal is full of you, is mainly about you. What have you done to me? Bloody woman, bloody enchantress. I love you.

I worry for her, my liitle bird. And calling her MY little bird will no doubt annoy her to no end, which naturally just amuses the hell out of me. I miss her, I miss her a lot, but she sleeps and I sleep and we spend what time together we can. But still'...I worry for her. Valorn has taken its toll on her I think. We all have a breaking point and sometimes we all just need to bow out and take a breather. I did it, maybe she needs to as well. I hope not for my own selfish reasons, I hope not. But if she does... I will still be here when she awakes. She really is my better half. Once again Valorn has managed to dim the ligh...without any help from Balthazar. How he must laugh, he sends his petty troops tp attack our towns knowing we will defeat them, he sends a token force, knowing we are destroying ourselves. So be it. I have always said the land is full of morons, alas its the morons that are mainly left. What does that make me for sticking around? I miss them, Hayate, Amon, Haven, Syl, Whit, Darias, Snazy...so many really. Hell there are days I miss Ruby falcon. Gods save us all.

Jessa was awake the other day, the little guttersnipe. How I adore her. I will never forget the day she came at me with the dagger I bought her and scalped me. I laughed for hours. My finest pupil. I also saw That Cleric, foul creature that she is. I think she would faint if she knew how much I adored and respected her...no she wouldn't, she is about as conceited as I am, she would expect nothing less...deserves nothing less.

I'm still not happy with my guild hall. It needs so much work, the whole thing needs reconstructing, except for a few rooms, even my office needs a touch up as much as I love it. Yes..I have my own room..and why not. People might say it's a waste of a room, self indulgent and ostentatious. Luckily I don't give a rats backside as to what people think. She certainly likes it. I think it amuses her that I have taken a room purely for my amusement.. I think she finds me amusesing...like a little puppy froliking around is amusing. Hmmmm that idea is really quite disturbing

She still refuses to come to our halls. It amuses and saddens me, but so be it and I have never been one to beg. I has asked a few times, the answer is still the same. So be it. Still...oh well.